Month: January 2017

I have to admit, I like google…a lot. I use it…a lot. It comes in second to my Mum because you can ask it A N Y T H I N G. And no matter how storming outrageous your question for google is, you can guarantee that someone, somewhere has already asked the same stupid thing. It makes you feel less stupid really doesn’t it.

So my toddler smelt like a vanilla pancake today…allll daaaay. Every time I picked her up – it was like I was cuddling a fluffy pancake (quite nice really), and every time I opened her door after she had a nap, pancake smell wafted out. It was so strange.

So naturally I went to bed wondering why on earth does she smell like this. I mean, it’s bloody hot here…sweat smell, I would understand, poo, yea not really unusual. Pancakes…it was different you know. As I was laying in bed, the thought of googling did occur to me, just being honest. But I wouldn’t do it because that is a really stupid question to ask google right? Turns out it’s been asked before. I know, because I actually did end up googling it. Also turns out I shouldn’t have googled it, because there was some really nasty answers in there. Like mutated, diseased answers. Answers that, true to form of googling stupid stuff, leave you freaking out and more confused.

You know what else people have googled? Ok, too much stuff to write in a blog, but have you ever googled, “Why does my toddler smell like fish?” “Why do they smell like mud?” “Why does their poo smell like fish?” (Possibly because the ate fish for dinner last night…just a wild stab there). “Why does my child lick me?” I will not google that last question, but my child is a mother licker so please tell me if you know the answer to that. Or my favourite, “Where do lost socks go when they go missing?” Yes Mr Google, where DO they go?

You know what, I almost feel sorry for google.

Getting overloaded with random, crappy, stupid questions every day.

Like, “Am I pregnant?”

Apparently google is a pregnancy test now too? Pretty sure unless google had something to do with the insemination, google would clearly not know the answer to this. But people ask this question, I know, because I googled it once. Please don’t ask me why. I don’t know. Probably something to do with rash hormones and trying to self diagnose. You know when you have every pregnancy symptom under the sun, but no positive test…It really does your head in. Because google knows, that if you’re not pregnant than you must have some sought of awful uterine plague that is destructive and…..Wait…it must be menopause…20 years early. You freak out. You make plans to start your family now or complete your family now, because in a few years time it might be too late.

But we all do stupid stuff right?

Did you know that there is even a website dedicated to stupid google questions? I kid you not guys….I know, because I googled it. Maybe even my questions have made it on there.

So here’s some advice from me.

R E L A X….Don’t do it.

Don’t google that question. Because google knows, if you do, you will probably leave your web browser with an incurable disease, an iphone 6 that can’t bend and rubbing cow saliva on the bald patch on your head.

Our little boy turned 5 on Thursday. Or, not so little boy anymore. 5 just feels like such a big milestone in the life of a child! It’s like they go from little preschooler, still totally dependent on you, in to all the little kid toys that you’ve had for years – to this school aged, overflowing with testosterone, alphabet reciting, independent, grown up boy, who seems to be so quickly edging away from the shelter of your Mumma wing, and diving into his own world of growth, discovery and adventure.

The night before his birthday, he called me in to his room where he was laying in bed, and asked me to lay next to him for a while. He snuggled in to my side and, loudly whispered about all the things that were running through his mind. It was the sweetest and weirdest moment – laying there thinking about how 5 years ago, he was this tiny little bundle inside my belly, about to come out and meet us for the very first time, and now he’s a loud little wild, full of compassion, and love, and energy unfathomable. A boy totally his own with the most enormous imagination I’ve ever encountered. He suddenly went from rolling on the floor, playing with rattles and chewing his dummy, to making his superhero figurines fight each other at my feet, while they save the world and ward off evils.

I was so captivated by the moment with my little boy, cherishing his loud whispers, his stories, his excitement as we lay there snuggled together. And when I got up to go, and he asked me to stay, “just a little bit longer Mum” I couldn’t say no. Because suddenly, I was engulfed in this sadness that in years to come he probably won’t want me laying next to him on his bed at night, while he snuggles into me and tells me his stories. How much longer will he want me to sing him ‘Jesus loves me’ when he goes to bed at night, and make up a silly story about pirate mice who sailed the seas. The big sloppy kisses he begs to give me, his mud coated arms wrapped around my neck, and his cheeky bum wiggles waving at me as he passes me. All the running races, climbing trees together, hide and seek, monster fighting, skateboarding lessons, and following our enormous map to find the hidden treasure, will soon be a memory. All too soon, I will need to say goodbye to this little boy – my little boy – and hello to a young man, as he inevitably grows up, has new interests, even more testosterone and eventually flies the nest.

All in a moment, I feel so excited to get to see him live his life as the warrior I know he was born to be. I feel sad that these moments will all too soon be gone. I feel frightened that it’s not enough time. Enough time to build him up, let him know his uniqueness, importance and value, and the fear of failing him sometimes sneaks in. I want to scream at him to STOP! Stop growing so fast! But every part of me just wants to embrace every day with him, even the things that annoy me – because they may soon be some of the things that I miss. The time for him to fully slip out from underneath my wing, will soon be here, but right now, I’m learning to release him slowly into all he is made to be.

To my wild little Chadd, the outrageous boy, with the biggest heart of compassion, who stole my heart, made me a Mumma, and never fails teaching me life lessons. I love life with him and I’ll hold on to these moments with you forever.